


Faith

by millygal



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M, POV Castiel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-18
Updated: 2013-09-18
Packaged: 2017-12-26 23:16:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,351
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/971434
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/millygal/pseuds/millygal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Castiel has seen faith, in it's purest form.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Faith

**Title:** Faith  
 **Rating:** PG  
 **Pairing/Characters:** Sam/Dean, Castiel  
 **Word Count:** 1,328  
 **Summary:** Castiel has seen faith, in it's purest form.  


  
Castiel learned a long time ago, don't just 'pop' in on the boys. Despite the fact every time he appears to them, they remonstrate him with colourful language for 'throwing a jump scare' at them.

For the few seconds he needs to make sure that they are ready to receive him, he stands in that space between. Celestial no man's land. He's watched them many times this way. His most recent and shaming experience of this is when he inadvertently informed them of his base treachery to their loyalty and faith.

He's worked hard, they've worked hard, to accept this new Castiel, this apologetic version of himself.

He's been righteous, he's been godly, he's been as Dean would say 'Guano', and he's been a slightly disturbing version of peace love and happiness. Now, he's simply a friend trying to redeem himself in his comrades eyes.

Now the boys are finally looking to him for answers and hope again, and they have a base of operations, somewhere to call home, Castiel takes the extra time to ensure they are willing and able to have him flutter into their world.

He's only ever dropped in on them at the wrong time once. Just once.

Once was enough.

To a religious zealot, to a god fearing church going bible pounding bigot, these boys would be fodder for the war machine. The war against all things that humans mistake for unholy.

You see, humans were indeed formed and structured in God's own image, so, on the whole, were Angels.

From father to many sons and many daughters, God's ideals and views on the world and the morality there in, was passed down.

Dean would say 'Shit rolls downhill' Sam would laugh and say 'How come I'm so normal then, I spend all my time with you!'

Castiel, despite his fight for freedom and the ability to feel whatever it is he doesn't want to, has no regrets on that battle front. He may be feeling regret for the betrayals he laid at the Winchester's feet, but he will never ever wish away the resultant ability to actually feel it.

More now than ever, he understands God's reasoning when it comes to love and faith and the ways in which humans show their devotion to each other, spending time watching the Winchester men has been more of an instruction in this matter than anything else ever could.

When he tried to take on the mantle of God, when he attempted to educate the religious waking world, he had tried in vain to explain how God sees love. He had failed. But he will always understand the lack of judgements from his father.

He may not have been able to let the light shine through him to the church goers of the world, but he can and will protect the boy's right to love any way they see fit.

As he readies himself to come to the boys once more, he slides into the space between his world and their's, and comes angelic face to naked, sweaty flesh.

He should've learnt by now to make a dramatic scene, flicker a few lights, have the wind blow a couple of books from the table, because when he turns up unannounced in the boy's bedrooms, he was bound to fall fowl of their version of worship eventually.

They cannot see him, he is still inhabiting his own cosmos, but he can see them, and he can feel them. Feel the air in the room. It leaks through the barriers to their separate universes, and it takes his breath away.

He blinks himself to the bathroom, leans his head against the cool marble, and inhales.

If he were to admit anything to himself, it would be that he does has one small regret, he's allowed himself to fall far enough from grace to understand the raw emotions floating around inside that room.

In human terms, you might even say he is slightly jealous.

Not of the act itself, it looks messy and cumbersome, even for two men as lithe as Dean and Sam.

No, he's jealous of the true devotion between the two.

Even as God's helpful little soldier, before he was posted at the foot of their beds to watch out for their immortal souls, he never once felt the true and unencumbered devotion and faith that these two have in each other, especially when they come together as they are right now.

He's seen worship, he's seen loyalty, he's seen faith a man would be willing to give his life for, but he's never seen true all encompassing love such as this, and every time he witnesses it, full frontal as it is now, or in whispered words, little looks, one hand atop another for the briefest of moments, he wants to fall to his knees and beg the boys to explain how this is possible. To simply share the joy.

As he hears the scrape of flesh against flesh, Castiel closes his eyes and concentrates on the emotions he can taste.

Angels don't see bodies or sexes. They see in souls. It takes a great amount of effort to focus one's eyes on the physical when you are meant to see in the celestial. He is constantly having to shake himself back into the physicality of the human world, especially around these two, because as tarnished as their souls should be, they are true, they are bright, they have a pull to them and they belong together.

The notion of soul mates is as old as God himself.

Every faith, belief system has a version of souls that are forever entwined.

He heard Ash, everything Ash said to Sam and Dean when they ran round heaven like headless chickens for him. Unfortunately, it isn't just Angel radio Castiel picks up, his antenna has always been tuned to Winchester radio, and occasionally he physically cannot turn it off.

Whilst the boys were in heaven, he chose to leave it on, just in case he needed to step in and help, despite the possibility of his own death.

When Ash told them that special cases get to share, and he felt the latent spark of hope that shot through Sam's soul, he wanted to march right into heaven, Raphael or no, and shake the boys until their teeth rattled.

Why can't they see what he and so many other Angels have witnessed!

When separated, by time, miles, hell or purgatory, they become raw, the edges of their souls fray, begin to unravel. If they remain apart for too long, Castiel fears that their singular souls will pull themselves apart.

Angels see the eighth shade in the colour wheel, the unidentifiable to any other being. All souls can sense this shade, this colour that doesn't really exist in their universe, but they cannot see it for what it really is.

The threads of all things, interlinked, marking a pathway to peace for every being, sentient or not.

He'd tried to explain, when he was in his hippy phase of recovery, the bees, and insects, the animals that go where they're told even though they don't know they've been given the instruction.

It's not fate, or destiny, it's enlightenment, a big aura of belonging.

The path is so clear for Sam and Dean. They are linked on an immortal level.

Despite the fact that he knows, in his own core, that Sam and Dean are simply showing their faith the only way they know how, he doesn't wish to embarrass them into admitting what they do alone at night when they need comfort only the other can give.

He will never appear before them as they are now.

As Castiel identifies the sounds of satiation, of need fulfilled and worship complete, he flickers a few lights, blows a few bulbs, gives them a chance to throw on clothes.

"Sam, Dean."  
"Jesus Cas, give a guy a friggin' heart attack."  



End file.
